


The Other Side of Giving (Is Receiving)

by faithfulpenelope



Series: Your Crystal Ball (Ain't So Crystal Clear) [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Star Trek Beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8613142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfulpenelope/pseuds/faithfulpenelope
Summary: It's then, there in the quiet and the dark, that it dawns on Jim: he knows this necklace.





	

At first, he doesn't know what wakes him.

It's quiet in his bedroom, dark and warm.  He realizes it's that warmth that's woken him up; he's tangled up in the heavy blankets that came with his Yorktown quarters, the ones that are almost too heavy when he's on his own and far too heavy when Leonard is beside him.  He untangles himself, gently pulls them loose from around Bones, leaving them with only the sheet, and Jim breathes a little easier.  Next to him, Leonard makes a little snuffling noise and turns from his front to his side. The necklace around his neck jingles.  

This is twice now Jim's seen him wearing it; he'd meant to ask him about it at his birthday party, but he'd been distracted by well-wishers and drinks and, back at his quarters afterwards, Bones on his knees in front of him, his mouth around him.  He strokes at the skin along the chain, closes his fingers around the medallion at the end.  It's almost smooth, the surface slightly uneven, and for a moment Jim thinks it must just be the imperfections of the metal, before he realizes it's an engraving, one that's been worn down by time and use.

It's then, there in the quiet and the dark, that it dawns on Jim: he knows this necklace.

_He knows he isn't supposed to be snooping around up here, but he can't be down there anymore._

_He's only nine; he's never been a wake before.  His mom had told him on the way that he was to behave and be quiet, so help her God, and he's been good so far, ignoring the stares and the whispers of his father's relatives when they walked in the room.  Grandpa Tiberius's casket is on display in the front parlor and Jim keeps his mouth shut as his mom drags him and Sam up to the front of the room, makes them kneel in respect.  Sam's sniffing, looking_ _like he's about to cry, because Sam's got all sorts of memories of Grandpa Tiberius. Back he was little him and Grandpa and Dad used to do all sorts of things, fishing and camping and football, but then Dad died, and Tiberius stopped coming around. Didn't matter he had another grandson now; if anything, Jim's presence seemed to make his loss worse, and the few times a year Jim did see him, almost always over a comm line, Tiberius had always this look as if to say, I didn't agree to this trade._

_Jim had learned to get used to that look pretty early on._

_Finally his mother rises and starts to make her way through the crowd.  Jim drags behind her, tries to look appropriately bereaved as people pat his head, pinch his cheek.  He makes it twenty minutes before he fakes needing the bathroom and scurries up the stairs in search of somewhere he can breathe._

_His grandfather's bedroom is small and clean, and Jim looks through his books, his clothes before he gets to the small box on the dresser-top.  Inside are some watches, a ring - his wedding ring, Jim figures, judging from the wear - and a jumble of mementos, notes and cards and a necklace.  It has a small medallion on the end, a religious icon, and Jim remembers a vague story about a great-grandmother who'd been a believer._

_He holds it up close. The edge of the medallion reads St. Luke in faint letters._

_"Jim?" His mother's voice is quiet but tense and he shuts the box quickly, hurries into the bathroom just as she comes around the doorway._

_"Just had to pee," he lies, and she eyes him but doesn't challenge it.  She tells him they're leaving and he breathes a sign of relief, follows her out._

_It isn't until they're home that he realizes he still has the necklace._

_He looks it up on his PADD, finds that St. Luke is the patron saint of physicians, which confirms his memory of the believer great-grandmother being married to a doctor.  Then he shoves the necklace deep in his dresser drawer, prays no one comes looking for it.  No one does, and Jim forgets about it, until he gets on a shuttle to San Francisco and meets a half-drunk crazy man who threatens to throw up on his shoes.  The man who would become his best friend.  The man who is terrified of space._

_He and Bones, they're already doing this thing of theirs when he gets a comm from Frank, threatening to trash his stuff if he doesn't come get it.  Not that there's much to get, but Jim refuses to let him toss his stuff like he's tossed Jim, so he goes.  Frank's not there when he gets to the house, and he pulls out a bag, grabs the few photos he has, some old PADDs.  He's about to leave when he turns and pulls open his dresser drawer.  He doesn't expected it to be there and it's a shock when his fingers meet the cold metal._

_Back in San Francisco, protected by the dark of Bones's bedroom at night, he slips the necklace around his lover's neck, tells Bones they may not believe but maybe the charm will lend him some sort of comfort when they're out in the vastness of space.  He feels more than sees Bones's smile against his hand, the muscles moving under his hand, and then Bones kisses him, pulls him close and whispers that as long as he has Jim, he won't be afraid._

Beside him, Leonard takes a deeper breath, and his eyes flutter open.  "Jim?" he rasps out, and Jim curls his free hand around his hip, strokes the skin there as if to say _, everything's fine_.  Leonard goes to lift up, realizes Jim has the medallion in his hands, and when his eyes meet Jim's there's a shy curl to his lips.

"I don't understand how you still have it," Jim says quietly, rubbing the metal between his fingers.  "You weren't wearing it that last time we were together, and we went straight to the bridge.  And then - you never could have gotten back to your quarters."

"I wasn't wearing it," Leonard says, his fingers warm against Jim's chest, "but I had it.  I've always had it."  

Jim's brow crinkles in confusion.  "Bones -"

"I keep it in my pocket.  Every day.  I always have."  

It's a rare sight, a stunned Jim Kirk, but Leonard's done it, shocked him into silence.  He gives a bashful shrug.  "It's why it's so faded, from me rubbing it when I was stressed or angry or whatever.  Figured after we made it off the Enterprise, through Krall - figured if there was any chance it really had helped keep us alive, it deserved some recognition for it."

"Bones," Jim breathes, and it's a sound of wonder.  "Bones, I never -" He swallows thick.  "I didn't know.  Didn't know that it meant so much to you."

"You gave it to me, Jim."  Leonard leans it, drops a soft kiss to his cheek, his mouth.  "Of course it does."

Jim flushes bright.  The thought of Bones caring so much for so long, of him seeking the medallion out when he needed comfort, it sets a fire deep in his belly and he can't help himself from pulling Bones close.  The kiss is deep, intense, as Jim pours out all the feelings he can't name into it and Leonard kisses back, his tongue stroking out against Jim's, because he understands it all, just as he always has.  

"I love you," Leonard whispers against his lips, and Jim whimpers against him.  "I've always loved you, Jim."

"I love you," Jim whispers back, his fingers clasped tight around the warm metal.  "I think even before I knew you, I loved you.  I think - I think I stole this knowing I would give it to you one day."  

Leonard's chuckle is deep and warm.  "I think you're just trying to blame me for your deviant ways," he grumbles, but his eyes are wet, his lips turned firmly up.  

"My partner in crime," Jim agrees, steals another kiss, warm and true.  "That's you, Bones.  It's always been you."

 


End file.
